


Stranded in 1943

by 2Lot



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: Angst, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 15:36:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Lot/pseuds/2Lot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A German college student living in 2012 somehow ends up in the Hogan's Heroes' universe, in 1943. Frightened and alone, who is she going to turn to? Is it safe to reveal her identity to anyone or better to just lie? Are the Heroes even going to believe that she is from the future and not a Nazi spy? -Possibly romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Some days are just better than others.

With some you kind of know the moment you wake up that it's only going to go downhill from there, others come along in a more subtle manner. Over the course of 23 years I had had my fair share of both.

Until December 4th, 2012, though, I never knew what a truly crappy day could look like.

Probably because until that day I had never woken up freezing and disoriented, lying on the cold ground in the middle of a nightly forest that I had never been in before, horrified by the sound of gunshots and screaming in the air.

I don't know how it happened.

It was a Sunday afternoon just like any other. Outside my little apartment, the last light of another gray winter day was quickly fading. I remember I was working on a paper for one of my American literature classes, my TV turned on for mere company but muted so that it would not break my concentration.

It had been a slow week. University had kept me busy during exams and between that and my half time job of tutoring, I was almost too tired to properly see the letters I was typing out on my laptop. Another paragraph, then I yawned, stretching under my blanket. Deciding on a short break I glanced at the TV, smiling when I found that the formerly rather boring program had been replaced by a rerun of one of my all-time favorite shows since childhood, Hogan's Heroes.

I smiled, turning up the volume to be able to follow Colonel Hogan and his men as they managed yet another sabotage mission. Just as I was getting into the show, my phone suddenly rang.

"Hey, Elsa, what'cha doin'?"

Sarah.

"The usual. Studying while trying to pretend it's not winter out there and we're still on the beach."

Sarah laughed, "Tell me about it. I told you we shoulda stayed there."

Sarah and I had just returned from a semester spent -mostly- studying in California. It was a tough transition so far. There was just so much to miss: the climate, the culture, the big city life.

"So what are you really doing? I can hear the TV in the background."

I chuckled, "Yeah, you got me, I'm watching Hogan's Heroes."

"On TV? I didn't know that was still on. Are you watching it in German?"

"Hmpf," I frowned although she wouldn't be able to see it, "Of course. It's on TV, not my computer."

I felt a small pang of regret at that. I knew why Sarah was asking. It was odd watching the show in German; usually we both much preferred watching American shows with the original audio, especially since our stay abroad.

As a child, I had had no choice but to watch the show in German because of the language barrier, but now hearing American English was a comfort rather than a strain; a warm reminder of a culture that at times had been my home as much as the German one.

"It's kinda nice watching it now," I told Sarah, "Hogan and the others miss America, too. Somehow makes me feel integral to the story."

She laughed at me, "You wish. Admit it, you're just watching it because for some reason you're weirdly attracted to old guys."

"They're not old," I pouted, not denying anything. On the screen, Newkirk was on an outside mission. He was wearing a jacket that I could have sworn my grandfather owned as well. I focused on his face resolutely. "And I simply enjoy the show for its humorous elements."

"Right, and its educational value," Sarah scoffed, "Well, I'll leave you to your guys. I'll find a show with guys from this millennium to fawn over."

I watched the show for another while after she'd hung up, deciding to leave my paper for the next day. My eyes began to droop as I watched Sergeant Schultz usher the faux-prisoners out of their barracks, smiling tiredly as Hogan yet again managed to pull one over Klink. Silly and unrealistic as the setting was, I couldn't help but love the show, the humor, the actors, the whole universe...it was too bad I had been born too late to see them for real...

With that fleeting thought, I must have fallen asleep.

The next thing I knew, I wasn't in my apartment. I was in the woods, and I was freaking out, sure beyond all confusion that something had gone terribly wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so this is chapter 2. Thank you for reading and reviewing. I hope this will be good but I am always here for questions and constructive criticism! 

There will be some German in this story, but with translations provided of course.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'Oh God, what's happening?'

I was awake within an instant, scrambling to my knees. There was just enough moonlight around me to make out the outlines of a forest. Not my bed, not my apartment. No. A forest.

How-?

My mind was instantly reeling. There were no woods close to where I lived. How had I gotten here? Why?

A gush of cold wind hit me and I shivered, suddenly realizing I was in my pajamas. Shit, shit, what's happening?

I struggled to my feet, whimpering when icy rocks and branches dug into my bare soles. Freezing and disoriented, I looked around. Nothing looked familiar...

"Hello?" I started, but then snapped my mouth shut again just as quickly, morbidly reminded of every horror movie I'd ever seen. The mental image that provided didn't exactly help me not panic. I looked around hastily, but there was no one in sight. Just darkness and trees.

'Okay, a dream. It's obviously a dream. You're still in your bed. Just close your eyes and when yo open them again this will all be gone.'

I did.

I waited.

When I blinked the forest was still there, as stoic as the sharp pebbles under my feet.

Okay, a very persistent dream...a very realistic, freezing, frightening dream...any second now...

I was just about to pinch myself when suddenly a loud noise made me all but jump out of my skin. I flinched, whirling around just in time to hear a second explosion, this one closer than the first. Gun shots, my brain supplied. Gun shots and shouting, angry voices...

I was running in the opposite direction before my brain had caught up to my legs, suddenly finally winning out over rationalizations. Whether whoever was running around a nightly forest, shooting, was just part of a really scary dream or a real threat -I sure as hell wasn't going to just stand around waiting to find out. I ran and ran, not minding the branched scratching my bare arms, legs and face; I ran until I could no longer breathe, forced to cower behind a tree for cover.

I did my best to stay silent as I caught my breath, trying to listen to the sounds of the forest and determine if I had gotten away from whoever was out there. There was silence, nothing I could hear besides the whispering of leaves and my own blood rushing in my ears.

I breathed out in relief, straightening up as quietly as possible as I peered into the dark. I saw him first. A black silhouette between two trees, moving quickly and silently.

I made a startled sound before I could stop myself. The figure spun around instantly, two eyes flashing in the darkness as they found me. I had no time to think or do anything; before I could blink he was already right in front of me, a heavy hand grabbing my arm. I flinched back fearfully, my back hitting the tree trunk, but the grip only tightened.

"Bitte-" I couldn't stop my voice from shaking, too afraid to think clearly, "nein-"

At my words, the man drew in a sharp breath. Before I could say anything else I was pulled away from the tree and into a little clearing.

Moonlight hit both of our faces at the same time. I was so shocked that I froze on the spot, forgetting that I was trying to get away.

No. That couldn't-

Standing right in front of me, in the flesh, was Richard Dawson aka Corporal Peter Newkirk.


	3. Chapter 3

Newkirk.

For a moment that felt like forever I was so surprised and confused that I forgot I had been scared and running just seconds ago.

I blinked. The image didn't go away. The man in front of me looked exactly like he had on my TV in my apartment. I opened my mouth, then shut it again, unable to get a single syllable out.

'Okay, now it's obvious this is a dream. You didn't actually just meet Richard Dawson at night in a non-existent forest in northern Germany. No, of course not, Richard Dawson is old...wait, dead. You're dreaming, it's a dream.' 

„Was machen Sie hier?" I blinked distractedly when Dream-Newkirk suddenly asked me a question in near perfect German. What was I doing here? Kind of an odd question for the figment of a dream...and why was he speaking German anyway? My head seemed to really have messed things up this time...

„Fräulein," his voice was hushed but urgent now, „What are you doing at night in the forest all by yourself?"

Before I could get myself to react in any way, the sound of heavy footsteps nearby interrupted us. There was the sound of guns being cocked, and more rough, shouted German: „Find him! He has to be close by!"

I jumped yet again, having just enough time to see Dream-Newkirk glancle at my frightened expression before I was pulled behind the tree again, into a crouch and out of sight.

„Sh, quiet," the hand that wasn't holding my arm covered my mouth, „They're Gestapo."

I stared up at him, perfectly still, watching as he watched out for our followers. Newkirk and the Gestapo.

Gestapo?

Gestapo. Right, of course. It wasn't enough to be stuck in the forest of mystery with a dead British actor -my mind had generously supplied me with bad guys, too. It seemed my earlier assumption held true and this was a nightmare after all. I listened to the shouting, the curses and threats.

A frighteningly realistic one.

We stayed still for a very long time, he, peering into the darkness, his hold on my arm never wavering, and I, too stunned to even make up my mind about what to make of my insane situation. A dream, a dream...but why wasn't I waking up then? I wanted to...now at the latest.

But no, I was still here...and it was starting to feel less an less like a dream, a fact that made me more and more upset. Why did it feel so real?

I could barely feel my body now as cold as I was, and it was all I could do to keep my teeth from chattering so as to not give us away. Newkirk was perfectly still beside me, seemingly not feeling the cold in his thick, dark jacket and pants. His lips were moving, like he was cursing, but I didn't hear anything.

When finally he turned his attention away from the silent forest and back to me I was no more prepared to deal with him than I had been in that first second.

„We need to get out of here, Fräulein," he was still speaking German to me I noted numbly, but in a softer tone now, „The Gestapo cannot find us here."

He'd let go of my arm and taken one of my hands to pull me to my feet, supporting me at the elbow. My whole body seemed to rebel as blood rushed back into my legs and I shuddered violently. He paused, for the first time actually looking at me it seemed -and noticing my severe shortage of appropriate clothing no doubt.

More confusion flashed over his face. He opened his mouth but before he could ask whatever he was going to ask, the sudden sound of a gun being cocked right behind us made us both jump.

„Halt! Don't move!"

We spun around only to find we were faced with four real life Gestapo men who had their guns trained on us. Again, Newkirk cursed intelligibly under his breath but I could do nothing but gape, my brain unable to catch up to what was happening while my heart was already racing in fear again.

Well, those guns sure did look real. So did the swastikas.

„Gestapo! What are you doing out here after curfew?"

Curfew? What was this, Nazi Germany? I glanced over at Newkirk. Oh, right. Definitely not the actor but the character then. Brilliant. Of course my mind couldn't send me to Hollywood to meet some actors, no, I had to wake up in a war-zone, just begging to be shot.

Speaking of which... The Gestapo man didn't seem like the patient type. "Speak!"

Newkirk thankfully found his voice rather quickly. He smiled, as I had so often seen him do on TV, and it almost didn't seem strained at all. „Er, just, you know, a little rendezvous under the moonlight...away from prying eyes. How bout you chaps?"

The lead Gestapo man growled. „Don't be funny. We were chasing a man suspected of sabotage through these woods!"

„Huh," Newkirk laughed, casually wrapping an arm around my shoulders, „Well, sorry but we haven't seen him, right, Liebchen? Been a bit busy if you'll understand. Good luck on your chase though."

He made to turn us away and walk off but was stopped when the Gestapo man barked at him to stop again. „Halt! Show us your papers."

„Afraid I misplaced them, good sir. Wagner's the name, I live in town." A dark look, then the man's attention turned to me. „You, Fräulein. Die Papiere, schnell!"

„Ich-" It was only the certain feeling that I was going to get shot and that, dream or not, that was going to hurt like hell- that made me finally snap out of my stupor. „I'm sorry but I don't have them with me. I must have left them at home."

„What is your name?"

„E-Elsa..." I swallowed, „...Richter." I hoped that was German-sounding enough. The man looked at me through squinted eyes, „You live in town, Fräulein Richter?"

„I-yes...I..."

Before I could go and mess up my poor attempt at lying, a sudden sound of thunder ripped through the night. The ground shook, and leaves and twigs rained down on us.

The Gestapo men ducked, instinctively covering their heads with their arms, and I suddenly found myself with my face buried in Newkirk's dark jacket, a warm hand on my head.

The moment of shock didn't last long for any of us.

„The factory! It has been attacked!" one of the Gestapo men shouted. Immediately, all rifles were aimed at us again. „You! You will be brought in for questioning! To our car. Move, now!"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	4. Chapter 4

I felt sick.

By now I wasn't sure anymore if it was due to the more than bumpy ride in the back of a Gestapo car that had been going on for almost 30 minutes or the sinister looking Gestapo men sitting across from us who still had their arms pointed at us.

Maybe both.

All in all, the whole situation didn't exactly give reason for bursts of joy. I still hadn't woken up in my bed and by now I was beginning to lose hope that it was going to happen anytime soon. In fact, I was beginning to wonder if this was a dream at-

No.

It had to be.

Anything else was entirely too terrifying to even consider. Too think that I should have somehow ended up in Nazi Germany in the middle of the war only to promptly be caught by the Gestapo in the company of a prisoner of war and without papers...being brought god knew where...

I shivered, and this time not from the cold.

The Gestapo man across from me sneered at me, his eyes roaming over my bare legs. For the dozenth time in as many minutes I cursed the fact that I was clothed in nothing but my gray pajama shorts and a short sleeved purple t-shirt. I'd seldom felt as vulnerable.

With a dark look to the man, I further curled into myself, wrapping my arms around myself and letting my open hair fall over my shoulders and into my face. Great, like I didn't have enough problems...

"Here you go, Liebchen," I blinked in surprise when next to me Newkirk suddenly moved, shrugging off his jacket to wrap it around my shoulders. The relief was immediate and I felt a pang of gratefulness for the small bit of comfort. At least Newkirk's personality seemed very similar to the show character's...

"Hey!" The Gestapo man barked, jabbing the Englander with his rifle.

"Easy, mate," Newkirk lifted his hands appeasingly, but didn't actually move away from me, "Just makin' sure the lady doesn't freeze."

"Shut up," our guard growled menacingly, "You'll be doing enough talking as soon as we get back to headquarters."

I tensed, my fingers clenching in the jacket. I wasn't really surprised to hear that we were to be interrogated but it still made me feel ice cold inside. Even the fact that I was with Newkirk didn't make me feel much better. I still wasn't sure about just what kind of a twisted alternate universe I had ended up in. If this was like the TV show, there shouldn't be much to worry about, we would be fine... but if it was more like reality...

Dread coiled at the bottom of my stomach. I remembered far too much about the Gestapo's interrogation methods from my history lessons in school. If this was the real thing, I didn't know who was in for more trouble. The escaped British prisoner-slash-saboteur-slash-spy next to me, or I, someone who had suspiciously turned up in the wrong place at the wrong time, without papers, and worse...without any kind of helpful background story.

What was I to say to these people? 'Excuse me, but I have nothing to do with your war, I am from the future and this is a TV show'?

I couldn't begin to count all the ways in which that would end horribly for me.

At least I had been smart enough to not give my actual family name. I was German, born and raised, as were my parents and grandparents...but after two wars that had torn apart generations and a few illegitimate children, I didn't even know where my last name came from. All I knew was that it sounded more Russian or Polish than anything else. Yeah, better not bring that up...

I also didn't know anything about Hammelburg...shit, I wasn't even sure it was a real city in Germany. Yes, I would crack in two minutes if they asked me anything...

It was a miracle these men weren't more suspicious of me than they already were considering my clearly not period appropriate clothing and hair. I assumed it was merely the poor lighting that had helped disguise me so far. But once they took a closer look...I wasn't even sure I would get around to mentioning any time travel before they decided I didn't look German enough...

I had to get out of here. Like, now.

I glanced form the man with the gun to the Englander next to me. He flashed me a brief smile, shifting a bit closer, supposedly to lend some of his warmth to me. Again, it was only a small comfort. We were both in trouble.

There was no way I could ask him what we should do even if he probably had some ideas. Not with the guard sitting right there.

Damn, on the show Hogan and the others would have already stopped the car and saved their comrade...I didn't want to think about what their absence now might mean.

Xxx

"Get in there! Sit down! Schnell!"

We were shoved into a holding cell the minute we arrived at the Gestapo headquarters. The door slammed behind me and I flinched, my head snapping around to find the guard gone and Newkirk peering after him out of the small window in the door.

"They're off," he murmured after a moment, "Probably debating who to call about us. Guess Hochstetter's not in."

Worry flashed over his face when he mentioned the major and I could imagine why. If Hochstetter came here he would recognize him and trace this back to Hogan...

I wrapped my arms around myself, lost in the dark and cold once again. If only I knew how much this was like Hogan's Heroes. Even on the show Hochstetter was menacing and sadistic, but he never won, he never managed to hurt the Heroes...

"Have you...had trouble with him before?" I formulated the question only hesitantly.

Newkirk turned to look at me, more worry flashing over his face when he looked me over. I probably wasn't making a very put together impression at the moment, not like I cared.

He walked over to me and took my arm, gently, guiding me over to the bare cot in the corner. We sat down and he took my cold hand comfortingly. "Yes, we- I have had to deal with him before. He's a mean one...might actually be a bit of trouble if he finds me here. He's sorta got it in for me already."

I almost scoffed. That was putting it mildly. We were so screwed.

Apparently my expression gave my thoughts away because he squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"Hey, don't fret, love. It has nothing to do with you. We'll just tell them the truth, that we met in the woods by chance. He has nothing against you. They'll probably just ask you a few questions, make sure your story checks out by calling your family in town and then you can go home."

He actually looked halfway convinced of that even though he must have known as well as I did that Hochstetter would immediately suspect me of being an underground contact. He was probably sure that I was uninvolved because he didn't know me – I guessed that was why he hadn't asked me any more questions about who I was and what I had been doing in the woods anymore either. He had just come to the conclusion that it didn't matter. His team handled all the underground activity in the area so if I was a stranger I had to be uninvolved.

Well, I was. Sadly not in the way he thought.

I began to feel sick again.

Even if Hochstetter wouldn't be highly suspicious of me for meeting a suspected underground agent at night in the woods, I had nothing to show for.

"I don't have any papers or any family to call," I said quietly, staring at the floor, "I lied when I said I live in town."

I wanted to say more, to tell him that I knew who he was...to ask about Hogan and the men...but I just couldn't get the words out of my mouth. This was all just too much, and I had no idea how to properly act in the situation.

Could I just come right out and tell Newkirk everything I knew? Wasn't there something about time travelers not being supposed to accidentally change the past? What if I ignited my very own version of the Butterfly Effect and screwed everything up even more?

And if I did tell him, would it even help right now? Wouldn't it just make everything even more confusing, freak him out and distract him? Definitely.

But then, how was he supposed to help me if he didn't know- provided he could help at all?

I looked up at him like he was somehow magically have answers to my unasked questions. Instead I found an expression of alarm on his features that didn't exactly make me feel better.

"You don't...Why-?"

I shrugged, defeated. "Same reason you lied. Telling them the truth was not an option."

At the last part of my sentence I could feel him tense next to me, immediately alarmed, his whole frame growing rigid for a second.

He immediately recovered, even now the good actor that I knew him to be.

"I don't know what you mean, I'm a loyal German and citizen of Hammelburg."

His tone contained just the right mix of indignation and irritation. He could've fooled anyone else. I looked back at him, thinking that it was only because I knew that I could make out traces of his true thoughts behind his near perfect mask. Confusion, suspicion, but also determination to not endanger his cover and his mission for any reason.

It convinced me even further that I just had to come clean. No matter how this night went from here on out -if anyone could and would help me get out of here, and maybe even out of this time, it was the allied soldier.

I took a deep breath and just risked it.

"No, you're not. You're Corporal Peter Newkirk of Stalag 13. If Hochstetter finds you here he will immediately trace this back to Hogan and the underground."

Unsurprisingly, he looked at me in shock, shock that quickly transformed into alarm.

Too late, it occurred to me that he must be thinking of Gretel and her betrayal (if that episode had already happened).

"I mean...I..." Before I could say anything else though, the door slammed open and the Gestapo guard was back.

"You, Fräulein, up!" He stalked over, grabbed me and dragged me out of the room before either of us could protest.

The last thing I saw were widened blue eye staring after me.


	5. Chapter 5

"Beantworten Sie die Fragen!"

I cringed, keeping my eyes down and digging my hands into the sides of the iron chair I was seated on.

"Answer the questions already or you'll be sorry!" the Gestapo man towering above me barked again, loud and threatening.

I believed him. I already was sorry. Not that that was any help. Telling the truth would only make everything much worse, as hard as that was to believe right now.

"I already told you the truth," I repeated hopelessly, "I don't know what you want from me."

The man in front of me moved so fast I didn't even have time to blink before I was struck by a blow hard enough to send me off balance, making both me and the chair crash to the floor noisily. I gasped at the pain shooting through me from the hit as well as the fall, holding my face in shock.

"Talk, you stupid bint, before we make you! What were you doing meeting that man in the woods in the middle of the night? He's a saboteur, isn't he? Were you helping him? Giving him information?!"

"No!" I cried, getting equally upset now, even if that was probably the stupidest thing I could have done, "Of course not! It was like he said. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"That you were," the man sneered. Again, too quick for me to react, he grabbed me by my hair and yanked me to my feet, shoving me against the table. I bit back another sound of pain, merely glaring hatefully. Shit, that would bruise. Well, if I saw tomorrow, that was...

The man stalked closer to me, once again leaning in menacingly as he grinned, "You just wait for Major Hochstetter to get here and you'll change your mind about talking real quick, believe me."

I knew my expression was giving away my fear when his grin widened.

He opened his mouth, probably to taunt me some more, but before he could, there was a sudden commotion out in the hallway. My guard spun around, stalking towards the door and pulling it open, "What the-?!"

There was shouting, and heavy steps... My stomach dropped. Hochstetter. Oh, no, please...

I expected the guard to relax and turn back to me once he recognized the reason for the commotion but he didn't, looking alarmed instead. Without another word to me he suddenly grabbed his weapon and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

I sagged against the table, supporting my shaking legs. What was happening? I strained my ears to make out words, anything...but it was all too far away.

By the time I had made myself move to the door to be able to listen better or maybe even get a look at what was happening through the small opening in the door, it was eerily silent outside. What-?

Just as the tension was becoming too much there was the sudden sound of gunshots, making me jump again. My heart missed a beat, only to start racing again.

What was happening?

Through the hole in the door I suddenly saw a black uniform round the corner, then another. For a horrible moment I was sure it was my guard and Hochstetter coming back to the cell -but then I saw their faces.

One man was the guard yes, but he had his hands in the air and a gun in his back. A gun held by the second man in black.

More precisely, Colonel Robert E Hogan.

Armed and in a German uniform, rounding up the Gestapo in clipped German phrases.

I stared through the window with wide eyes, unbelieving, but the image didn't change. Instead, Hogan was joined by another man in uniform who turned out to be Sergeant Carter (!), and Newkirk.

It was seeing him that made me believe I wasn't fantasizing, and my heart jumped with joy. The Heroes. They had come after all to save Newkirk. We were saved! I wanted to cry out with happiness, to bang against the door so they could get me but all I could do was stand there and stare at them, waiting for my brain to log back on.

"Don't move," Hogan barked at the Gestapo man when he shifted, "or the war will be over for you tonight."

He looked exactly like he had on TV, my dazed mind noted absently, and he acted like the character, too. Until...

I cringed when the colonel drew back his arm and let the butt of his gun collide with the back of the Gestapo man's neck, making him break down unconscious with a groan. Oh, well, maybe he was a little less T-Rated outside of TV. Not that I would miss the guy he'd just hit.

"Mighty glad to see you, gov'nor," Newkirk piped up, smiling at Carter when the man patted his shoulder in welcome. "Took your time, did ya?" He had easily switched back to English now that his cover wasn't needed anymore.

"Better late than never," Hogan said neutrally, "Alright, let's wrap this up, guys. We need to get back to camp. I don't want to run into Hochstetter while I'm dressed like this."

Both he and Carter turned to walk back down the corridor, only stopping when Newkirk hesitated.

"Right, Colonel," the English man said, scratching his neck, "There's just one thing."

He grimaced when Hogan looked at him impatiently -and maybe with a little dread.

"So.. there was this girl, right?" Newkirk explained, sounding slightly nervous. I sighed in relief. I had almost been worried they would just leave me in here.

"'Ran into her while I was getting away from the factory and they picked her up with me. They're holding her down here for questioning, too."

"So what?" Hogan asked impatiently, then sighed at Newkirk's suffering expression, "Fine. Get her out of here and tell her to run back to town or wherever. You didn't tell her anything about us, right?"

"No," Newkirk was starting to sound more and more uncomfortable now, fidgeting, "No, sir, I can positively say I didn't. However..." he sighed at another impatient look form his colonel. "She knew."

"What?!"

"I don't know how, but she knew my name, and yours, and she knew about the underground."

"She's Gestapo!" Carter gasped.

"No, I don't think she is," Newkirk shook his head, even if he didn't look very convinced, "See, she was running from the Gestapo, too."

"Well, duh, Newkirk," Carter scoffed, "Everybody's afraid of the Gestapo, even their own people."

"It doesn't matter now," Hogan snapped, his face darkening, "We need to find her. We can't risk her telling Hochstetter anything...if she hasn't already. Where did they bring her, Newkirk?"

"Interrogation," the Englander said, glumly.

As if on cue, they all turned around at the same time to look at the door I was trapped behind.

I jumped back from the door like I'd been hit again, my heart racing once more, but this time not with joy.

Suddenly, I wasn't so sure I wanted to meet my Heroes right now.


	6. Chapter 6

I backed away from the door just seconds before it was shoved open from the outside.

Then, Robert E. Hogan was standing in front of me, his expression grim and determined.

"Fräulein," he nodded, unsmiling.

I stared up at him apprehensively, afraid of what might be about to happen. Oh Gods no, they thought I was with the bad guys.

Hogan adjusted the gun in his right hand and I flinched, staring at it wide eyed. Behind him, Newkirk shifted uncomfortably but neither he nor Carter said anything.

"I'll save myself the introduction as it seems you're already quite well informed."

"I- I need to explain-" I stammered, but he cut me off.

"No time for that. I'm afraid you'll have to come with us now."

He grabbed hold of my arm before I could protest. As he was pulling me down the deserted hallways, past the felled Gestapo men, my thoughts were tumbling all around my head, frenzied and chaotic. I didn't know whether to be glad they were getting out of here, or afraid of what would happen if I couldn't convince them I was no enemy. The thought made me want to cry.

No! These were the Heroes, goddamnit. They weren't supposed to be scary!

We were nearing the exit of the building when I finally got my bearing back enough to make another attempt at talking.

"Please, I really-"

"Quiet," he shot me a warning look, raising the gun so I was aimed in the general direction of my stomach, "We're gonna make for the woods. If you alert them to our presence, don't think you won't end up getting shot by either them or us."

I swallowed back tears once more, shuddering. This wasn't how I had imagined meeting Colonel Hogan would go. I risked a glance around me, back at Newkirk, but both he and Carter were uncomfortably avoiding my gaze, seemingly busy with scouting the area. My stomach sunk even further, turning into knots.

I barely suppressed a gasp when my arm was pulled again, stumbling after Hogan, out of the building and forward. Before long we were running through the woods, away from the Gestapo. The underbrush was scratching my bar feet and legs, but I barely feet the pain, numb with dread once again.

Xxx

"Why did you even bring her here?"

"We couldn't just leave her there could we? Plus, she knew things about us. We need to find out how much and how she knows."

"Then someone go in there and ask her!"

Though I had my face hidden against my knees, my legs curled up against my body for warmth as much as comfort, I could hear them arguing clearly. There were no doors in the tunnels, but I had known that.

The 'holding cell' they put me in after arriving back under the camp with nothing more than the end of a short tunnel that probably wasn't finished yet. Not that I would be able to run away if I had planned to -they were standing and arguing right in front of the tunnel entry.

None of them were keeping their voices down. Either they didn't care if I heard them or they assumed I didn't speak English well enough to understand them. The latter wasn't unlikely, as I had said next to nothing after Hogan had ordered me to keep quiet, and I was still quiet now.

"Who's to say she won't just lie? If she's an agent, she's trained to, you know that."

"Well, what are we supposed to do with her then?"

Heavy silence.

The dread in my stomach hadn't vanished yet. I hated it, but I was still afraid, almost as afraid as I had been in the Gestapo head quarters. I didn't know what they were going to do to me if they got in their heads that I was an enemy. Their silence now was deafening. It let me guess at what they usually did with people who knew too much about the operation.

My fingernails dug into my kneecaps in distress. I didn't, couldn't, think that they would kill me -even if this was more realistic than the TV show. But...even if they 'just' sent me to England...how the hell would I ever get home once I was stuck in a British jail in the forties?

No, I couldn't let that happen!

But I also couldn't do anything else, could I? How would I convince them that I wasn't a spy? By telling them the truth?Who would even believe that?

The tears I had held back until now threatened to spill over my cheeks then and I pressed my face harder against my knees so they wouldn't hear my sob.

I was fucked and I knew it. My only hope at rescue was turning out to be just the opposite and I was all out of options.

Unlike them.

"Oh, bloody 'ell, I'll do it!"

The voice and then the sudden sound of heavy boots nearing made my head snap up and I shrank back against the cold wall instinctively. Moments later Peter Newkirk emerged from the shadows, his face still blacked and thus indiscernible.

I stared up at him without blinking, my fingers gripping my legs so tightly the knuckles turned white.

xxx

And this is pretty much where I'm stuck. Like Twain once lamented, I've gotten my character into a predicament that I'm not sure how to get here out of. :S The heroes' world got kinda dark and Elsa has no means to prove she is not a spy... -_- Oh well, might be a while before I come up with the rest. Suggestions are always welcome :D


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